


The One With Cas's Cartoon Heart

by noangelsinthegarrison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F.R.I.E.N.D.s AU, First Kiss, Fluff, I wrote this before season 9 aired, Love Confessions, M/M, Sam Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noangelsinthegarrison/pseuds/noangelsinthegarrison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a F.R.I.E.N.D.s au where Cas is Ross and Dean is Rachel and Cas <i>really</i> doesn't want Dean to get on that plane.</p><p>Sam just really wants his family to be happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With Cas's Cartoon Heart

“You’re being ridiculous, Dean, you do know that don’t you?”

“Shut up, bitch.”

“No, I will not shut up, you _jerk_ , have you even listened to yourself?”

Dean pauses briefly from shoving random bits of clothing into his duffle and shoots a glare over his shoulder at the man frowning in the doorway.

“You know, Sammy,” he says, turning back towards his bed and staring too hard at whatever shirt he just picked up from the pile, “if the wind changes your face will be stuck that way.”

He smirks half-heartedly, but the joke doesn't reach his eyes. He wonders, almost hysterically, if Gabriel could have been persuaded to prove him right if he’d still been alive.

“Oh for god’s sake, _Dean,_ ” Sam’s hand is on his shoulder before he’d even registered the sound of him approaching and he’s spun around to meet eyes with frankly too much understanding to be comfortable. “You really want to run away?”

Dean wrenches his shoulder out of his brother’s grasp, anger flaring up before he can control it, “What the fuck would you know about it, Sam?”

“I know that you’re only doing this because you think he’s going to leave the second he gets his grace back.”

Dean scoffs and turns back to his duffle but Sam’s spinning him around again before he can hide the flush in his cheeks, “I know you don’t really want to go to fucking _Wales_ just because some random chick asked you to and _I know_ you’re so sure he doesn't want to be here that you’re determined to be the one doing the leaving!”

Dean can feel his hands shaking and he clenches them tightly into fists by his sides.

“You done?” he asks, his voice forcedly even and his eyes murderous.

“Dean,” Sam sighs and runs his hands through his hair, “Dean, have you even talked to him since he fell?”

“What the hell, Sam? You've heard me talk to him!”

“About anything other than hunting?”

Dean’s jaw clenches and Sam sighs again, “Look, Dean, he’s your best friend and I know you two haven’t been on the best of terms or whatever but I also know that _he doesn’t fucking want you to go!_ And by the way, I’m not so happy about it either! Do you even know how long you’ll be gone for? One month? Two? You know as well as I do, it didn’t even sound like a real case and this can’t be because of the girl, heaven knows there are enough girls state-side who for some reason want a roll in the hay with you, so – “

“Alright that’s enough.” Dean’s voice is quiet, but there’s enough of John in his tone that Sam stops talking. “This isn’t about Cas. We’re fine. You may thrive off talking about feelings or whatever but we don’t need to, okay? Besides, he doesn’t give a fuck whether I stay or go.” Dean turns towards his duffle again, shoulders tense and this time, Sam doesn’t stop him.

“Oh yeah? So I guess he’s been moping around this place like an abandoned puppy since this morning because, what, his pancakes weren’t quite fluffy enough?”

“He’s homesick, Sam, what do you expect?”

Sam makes a frustrated sound low in his throat, almost a growl, and Dean swears he might have even heard him stamp his foot.

“You know, I really don’t know whether you just don’t get it, or you’re too fucking scared to.” Dean swings his duffle over his shoulder and turns to storm past Sam, but he blocks his way, “Dean, the only way he’s ever going to _want_ to leave this bunker is if you’re not here any more. He hasn't shown a single sign of missing heaven for weeks, he’s been too preoccupied with trying to get you to fucking _talk to him_ and now you expect him to ask you to stay? Dean, he probably thinks you’re leaving because you’re still mad at him!”

“I _am_ still mad at him!”

“Are you, Dean? Or are you just mad at yourself?”

Dean shoulders his way past his brother with a huff, “Okay Oprah, this conversation is over. Say goodbye to Cas for me would you?”

“Seriously?” Sam calls after him down the hallway, “You’re honestly leaving now? In the few minutes Cas is at the store? And you honestly want me to believe this isn’t about him?”

Something inside Dean snaps, like someone had been stretching elastic bands across his ribs, each one further and further to see just how far they can pull before one of them breaks and kick-starts a domino effect of snapping bands, breaking one by one until there’s nothing holding him together anymore. He whirls around, shoulders slumping and face red with anger or embarrassment, he doesn’t even know which.

“What do you want me to say?!” He half shouts in frustration, “that it fucking hurts every time I tell him I need him and he turns around and leaves anyway? I used to pray to him every fucking night, Sam. I told him over and over again to stay and he never did.”

“And now he’s – “

“He’s human. He has no choice. He stays because he needs to, but one day he won’t and he’ll leave again and I can’t be here when that happens, Sam. I can’t.”

Dean doesn’t remember ever giving the floor in the bunker much thought before, but now he stares at it like it holds all the secrets of heaven and hell combined. He barely even tears his eyes away from it when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder, much gentler than before.

“Dean, he stays because he finally has an excuse to.”

“Sam – “

“ _Dean_. Trust me on this, if on nothing else. If you leave now, you’ll be walking away from _two_ people who love you more than anything. Not just one.”

Dean’s breath hitches in his throat, he hears it and he knows Sam must have too. For a second, brief, bright and wonderful, he imagines believing his brother. He imagines putting his duffle back in his room and telling Cas he’d changed his mind since he told them this morning. He imagines Cas smiling so wide his gums are visible and maybe even coming forward and hugging Dean close, telling him softly that he’s happy here.

But he doesn’t believe Sam and he doesn’t put his duffle back.

He does hug Sam though, almost regretting how running from Cas also means leaving Sam for a couple of months. Sam sighs but hugs back tightly.

“Sorry, Sammy,” he says, wishing he weren’t such a coward.

“I know, Dean. I’ll miss you.”

Sam’s the first to let go, disappointment and sadness clear across his face.

Dean opens his mouth to remind him to call if he needs him to come back or maybe to tell him he’s sorry again but Sam waves him off, frustration poorly concealed behind his resignation and Dean is out of the door and in the driver’s seat before those damn puppy dog eyes can change his mind.

*

When Cas gets back to the bunker, he knows before he even reaches the door than Dean is gone. He stands and stares for what feels like hours at the empty space where Dean’s beloved car had been, until Sam opens the door to usher him inside.

“Dean left,” he says once they’re standing in the kitchen, and it isn’t a question. He wonders for a moment why this feels ten times more like losing a limb than losing his wings did. Though, a bitter voice replies, really he knows why.

“Yeah,” Sam replies, and Cas barely even notices as kind hands take the shopping bag out of his own, “yeah, um, he wanted me to tell you goodbye.”

Cas’s eyes meet Sam’s then and he wonders what Sam sees in his face to make him look at him like that. Maybe he can see Cas’s heart ache just as easily as Cas can see it in Sam.

Sam clears his throat and starts unpacking the shopping, hesitating slightly as he pulls out Dean’s favourite beer and it’s enough to cloud Cas’s vision.

“Sam,” he croaks and he doesn’t know why his voice is wavering so, “Sam did he leave because of me?”

Sam freezes over a carton of milk and Cas doesn’t want to hear the answer.

“Does he,” he stops to swallow the lump forming in his throat, “does he really hate me that much?”

Sam slams the fridge door shut and spins on his heels, looking down at Cas with wide heartbroken eyes and huh, Cas doesn’t even remember sitting down but he reckons it was around the time he saw Sam falter over the pie Cas had bought in the hopes Dean would stay.

“Hate you? _Hate you?_ God, you two really are stupid sons of bitches.”

Sam closes his eyes in exasperation and Cas doesn’t really know where this abuse is coming from.

“Cas, Dean isn’t leaving because he hates you. Man, he doesn’t tell me a goddamn thing but if there’s one thing I’m damn sure of, it’s that Dean could never hate you.”

“Then why – ”

Sam sighs loudly, “Because he thought you wouldn’t care either way.”

Wait, what?

“What are you talking about?”

“Look, bottom line is: Dean’s an idiot with no self-esteem and when his best friend doesn’t outright ask him to stay, he takes it to mean ‘oh well he obviously doesn’t even want me here’.”

Cas can’t breathe.

“But I’m in love with him.”

He says it before he even registers he’s said it out loud, before he even takes in who else is in the room. He says it like it’s the most obvious fact in the world, like he assumes Dean knew all along. But Sam has frozen in front of him, his eyes wider than he’s ever seen them and Cas wonders how even Sam didn’t know.

“What?” the younger Winchester exhales after a moment of barely breathing, and Cas can’t tell whether Sam’s trying not to smile or whether he’s just not practised enough in the art of reading human emotions.

“I thought he knew. I thought everyone knew. I – “ Cas rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed, “I was told by my brothers and sisters than I wasn’t very good at hiding it.”

“Oh my god,” Sam groans and Cas definitely sees a smile splitting his face before he covers it with his hands, “oh my god, how did I not see this one coming?”

Cas still really doesn’t understand why Sam is smiling. So he asks him.

“Because, Cas!” he lifts his face from his hands and pulls Cas up from his chair, “Because we need to get to the airport right now.”

Cas frowns, “Why?”

“So you can tell him how you feel!” Sam grins as he grabs the keys to the old Mustang they stole a couple of weeks back.

Cas pulls back against Sam’s excited grip, “No.”

Sam turns, smile fading, “What?”

“I can’t. Dean doesn’t...it won’t change anything.”

Sam steps forward and rests his hands on Cas’s shoulders. “Hey,” he says, making Cas meet his eyes, “you don’t know that until you try.”

“Sam,” Cas sighs, shoulders drooping, “Last night I – I almost kissed him.”

Sam’s grip tightened, “What?”

“I was watching a film called _‘Lilo and Stitch’_ because when Dean saw that it was on he said that I might enjoy it. He said it reminds him of us. After it finished I went to find him in the library and I...I hugged him. I have never let myself hug him before. Being that close to him I – I – ” Cas closes his eyes, “-but he turned his face away before I could. He said he was tired and left. Then he came in this morning and announced he was leaving for another continent. I think that was pretty clear, Sam.”

Cas isn’t sure when his vision started clouding again but he blinks the moisture away in frustration, turning his face from Sam’s and closing his eyes to the memories of last night; how he’d lain awake for hours, staring at the ceiling and wondering how many years his heart would clench at the thought of Dean Winchester, not wanting to believe his own certainty that it would be always.

“Cas,” Sam’s soft voice snaps him back to the present, a small smile still showing at the corners of his mouth, “Don’t you think that if Dean Winchester wanted to reject you, he’d have just said so?”

Cas tilts his head.

“And don’t you think that maybe he is just oblivious enough to need an outright confession?”

Cas wishes he had any hope left and shakes his head.

“Okay,” says Sam, squeezing his shoulders again, voice brighter than it was a minute ago, “bottom line, neither of us are gonna have any idea how he feels until you ask him. If he doesn’t feel the same way then he’ll let you down easy and hey, at least he’ll know you care. And if he _does_ then – then I’m gonna have to ask that you don’t ever tell me what you get up to behind closed doors because no.” He shudders dramatically and smiles encouragingly.

Cas feels a little balloon of something swell in his heart.

“Come on Cas, I know you’ve seen enough rom-coms in the middle of the night to know that this could totally turn out to be the best decision ever. I mean, you’re _in love_ with him, right?”

Cas cannot help but smile just a little at Sam’s enthusiasm, “Yes Sam. Very much so.”

Sam laughs, “And you don’t want him to get on that plane, right?”

Cas imagines the next few months in the bunker without Dean. He likes Sam, likes Sam very much, and he likes reading the old books in the library and watching television and learning to cook from the old recipes he finds in the archives. But he loves Dean. He loves waking up in the morning to the sound of Dean humming softly in the shower and he loves the soft smile he throws his way sometimes when he hands Cas his morning coffee. He loves how his eyes light up when they find a diner with pie and how sometimes he’ll let Cas have half his slice if there’s only one left. He loves Dean teaching him how to shoot a gun, even though Cas kind of already knew how, and he loves the way he smiles at him when he forgets he’s meant to be mad at Cas.

He loves Dean.

“When is it meant to leave?”

Sam grins even wider and looks at his watch, “Forty-five minutes.”

Cas’s breath quickens. “Then we best hurry.”

Sam surges forwards with a barely contained whoop of excitement and hugs Cas quickly, startling a chuckle out of him, before grabbing his arm again and dragging him out the door, shoving him excitedly into the passenger seat.

*

Cas doesn’t let himself question his decision on the ride to the airport. He knows if he thinks about it he’ll beg Sam to turn around, refuse to say a word to Dean in case his own suspicions are right and Dean doesn’t feel the same. Instead he bounces his knees up and down, a distinctly human gesture he has seen countless people do when nervous, and suddenly understands the kind of restless energy that comes with preparing to bare your heart.

When Sam tells him to calm down about fifteen minutes into the drive Cas closes his eyes and tries to imagine the best case scenarios. Of Dean smiling wide and gathering him into his arms, telling him he’s in love with him too and kissing him in the middle of the airport. Maybe he’ll cry, maybe they both will, maybe Dean will rest his forehead against Cas’s and tell him he’s loved him for years. He doesn’t let the other thoughts interrupt, doesn’t think about how he scarcely believes, just keeps his eyes closed and imagines a human life with Dean Winchester.

He imagines it would be better than flying.

*

Cas doesn’t like his newly human lungs. As the two of them charge through the airport, trying desperately to find a board with the right gate on it, he can feel his chest begin to tighten and his breaths come in sharper.

**Cardiff:  Gate 24: _LAST CALL_ **

A line of fire shoots straight up through his suddenly burning lungs as he grabs onto Sam’s jacket, frozen. They’d never make that. Sam had explained the process of security in the car.

“Okay Cas, you’re gonna have to run for it.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Come on, I know you haven’t seen _Love Actually_ , and if you tell Dean I’ve seen it I’ll totally kick your ass, but this is the moment where you run through the airport, jump security, and go get your man, or whatever.”

Cas thinks about it for five seconds before the image of green eyes and freckles sends a jolt of electricity through his veins and before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s running.

He thinks he probably can’t blame his human lungs for his shortness of breath.

The run to the gate actually turns out to be rather more anti-climactic than Sam had made out. The queue at security is short and Cas has nothing in his pockets, he’d left his newly acquired cell phone back at the bunker, so he actually manages to get through in a few minutes without kick-starting any kind of chase, which would have rather hindered a dramatic confession at the gate.

Finding the gate is rather more nerve-wracking. Gate 13 has about a hundred people crowded outside and none of them seem to be willing to move out of his way and he resorts to pushing, causing one angry parent to shout after him as he knocks over a small child.

At gate 23, he panics because he can’t see anyone at the next gate and looking at his watch, he knows that Dean should be on the plane already.

“Dean!” he shouts, not even really meaning to, and as he comes to a halt outside the gate he leans forward to rest his hands on his thighs, trying to catch his breath, “Dean,” he breathes again, closing his eyes tight against the tears he can feel stinging them, not wanting to believe this had all been for nothing.

“Cas?”

Cas stops breathing. Did he jus –

“Cas, what the hell?”

His eyes snap open and his back straightens as Dean comes out of the public bathroom next to the gate, green eyes wide with an emotion Cas assumes is surprise and mouth slightly agape. Cas still struggles to breathe.

“Sir, this is the last call for the flight to Cardiff.” The woman behind the counter has a nasally voice and Cas has never been so instantly irritated by anyone as the sound of it snaps Dean’s attention away from him.

“Uh, yeah, I just... give me a minute?”

He turns back to Cas, walking towards him until he’s close enough to touch. Oh, how Cas wishes he could touch.

“Cas, mind telling me what the hell you’re doing here?”

And Cas can’t. He doesn’t know how. In all the times he imagined Dean’s reaction, he never bothered imagining the preamble. Never even considered what he’d say. Isn’t this the point where the hero makes a big speech? Brings everyone to tears and the princess to his arms?

But Dean is not a princess and Cas has certainly never been a hero.

“I...”

Dean raises his eyebrows, a gesture Cas has learnt to mean _hurry the fuck up_ and he’s still panting and his head is swimming with lines and lines of poetry but none of it seems right. This is Dean. His Dean. And life isn’t like television at all and Cas doesn’t have a swelling speech.

So takes a deep breath and opts for the truth.

“I need you too.”

Dean freezes. Cas thinks maybe it’s because he can hear the loud thumping of Cas’s heart against his ribcage and suddenly, in a fit of hysteria, his mind flies back to the case with the cartoon bubble, the image of his own heart reaching out of his chest towards Dean, dancing behind his eyelids.

“Sir, please, I’m going to have to ask you to –”

“One minute!” Dean turns to snap at the woman behind him, before turning wide eyes back to Cas. “Cas,” he sounds terrified, “what are you doing?”

“Don’t leave me. Please. Or Sam. But mostly me.” Cas is pretty sure this doesn’t fall under the category of poetry, but he can’t stop. “I’m in love with you. I thought you knew. But Sam said you didn’t so he drove me here so I could tell you because I’m in love with you and nowhere is home without you.”

Dean just stares at him.

Once, when he was only a couple of centuries old, Castiel had visited the newly formed Earth with an older brother. _Don’t you step on that fish, Castiel_ he had said, and so they watched as it laid its eggs.

Castiel stood by the eggs for days after the mother had returned to the sea, watching as they came closer and closer to hatching. When the day came for the first creature to emerge from its egg, Castiel gasped and hurried forwards, angry at the mother for leaving her children so. He picked up the blind, crawling infant and dropped it carefully back into the ocean. A great cry came from behind him as he watched the creature sink to the sandy floor, _No, Castiel! These newborns don’t have gills!_ And Castiel was sent back to heaven in disgrace.

And Castiel had shuddered and wondered what it would be like to drown.

Well, he thinks, now he knows.

“Dean,” he says, voice thick with tears he refuses to shed here, and Dean lets out a startled breath. “Dean, please don’t get on the plane.”

Dean takes a step back and Cas understands why they call it a broken heart.

“Cas, I – ” Dean runs a shaking hand through his hair and Cas reaches out for him without even thinking, taking the hand from his hair between both of his.

“Dean.” It’s all he can say. It’s the only word he knows.

“Cas, I’ve got to get on the plane.” His eyes are scared and sad and Cas doesn’t understand.

“You hate planes,” Cas says, inanely, grasping at Dean’s hand.

“Yeah, well,” Dean gulps and for a moment Cas thinks he’s leaning back towards him –

“Sir, I have to close the gate right now, are you boarding or not?”

Something in Dean changes and suddenly his hand’s not in Cas’s anymore and his back is ramrod straight.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean nods at the woman and Cas feels cold.

Dean shoulders his duffle and looks at a spot just above Cas’s right shoulder, “Bye, Cas.”

Then he’s gone, and Cas’s cartoon heart stops reaching out for him and shatters into dust instead.

*

The thick silence in the car becomes almost deafening once Sam cuts off the engine and Cas isn’t sure if he wants Sam to say anything or not. They haven’t said a word on the whole drive home, nor in the airport when one look at Cas’s face as he walked back alone told Sam everything he needed to know. Now the silence is painful and Cas can almost hear Sam scrambling for something to say.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks eventually and Cas looks at him.

“Why?” he frowns.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you into it,” Sam looks almost as miserable as Cas feels, “and now I’ve made everything worse and I... I just wanted you guys to be happy, you know.”

He looks over at Cas, guilt shining out through sad eyes and Cas feels a sudden surge of gratitude. _Thank you, Father, for Sam Winchester_ he thinks and he reaches over to squeeze his shoulder, like Sam did for him earlier.

“This is not your fault, Sam. It is no one’s fault. It just is.” He wonders how he manages to keep his voice so even when his insides are screaming.

If anything, Sam looks sadder. “Do you want to... I don’t know, talk about it?”

Cas looks down at his hands. “No. Thank you. I’d like to be alone if that’s alright.”

Sam nods and Cas leaves the car before he suffocates, shutting himself in his room the second Sam gets the front door open.

It’s funny, he thinks, how sadness can so easily translate itself into rage. He feels the burn of it in his gut and he wishes, violently, that he could have someone to hate.

He wishes he could hate Sam, dear, sweet Sam who looked at him with sorrow and pity, for offering hope where there was none. He wishes he could hate Dean, his own personal hurricane for not actually being his at all and he hates himself, so very fervently in that moment, for wanting so badly, even now.

His cell phone is blinking at him from its place on his desk and he hates it for not being in his pocket earlier and slowing him down. Maybe it would have saved him from seeing Dean walk away.

He snatches it up fiercely and lifts his arm to hurl it against the wall except –

Except the flashing text on the screen makes him freeze.

**_One new voicemail from: Dean_ **

Cas feels the anger leave him so fast it nearly floors him. He sinks down onto the bed and stares at the words.

Dean.

This message wasn’t from before, it can’t have been. He had it with him at the store.

His hands are shaking, he can see them trying to keep their grip on his phone and he almost drops it as his thumb hovers over the play button.

He takes a breath, wondering if this room has always felt this warm, and hits play before he can stop himself.

“ _Cas, hi. It’s Dean. I, uh... guess you know that already from the number or whatever I just... shit I don’t even know why I’m calling......I... I just... Jesus Cas I’m just sitting here in this damn piece of metal thinking about what you said and I... [sigh] ... I don’t even know what I’m doing. I just had to call you and... tell you I’m sorry I guess. The way I left I just... I didn’t know what else to do, I mean I didn’t expect to see you and suddenly you were_ there _and saying these_ things _and I was so fucking scared and I ran and I just feel like shit because I didn’t even tell you that I love you too – ”_

Cas’s heart nearly stops beating.

 _“ – because_ of course _I do, Cas. I... son of a bitch... I love you._ I love you _. Oh my god. I – I have to get off this plane.”_

Cas stands quickly, phone gripped so tightly in his hand that it would hurt if he could feel anything other than his heart in his chest.

“ _Excuse me, ma’am, I have to get off this plane –_ Sir, please sit down, we’re about to – _No you don’t understand, I need to leave_ right now – Sir, the doors are locked, it’s too late now to – _okay you listen to me right now, if you don’t let me off this fucking plane I’m going to – “_

And the line goes dead.

“No!” Cas shouts into his phone, enraged by the flat dial tone screaming in his ear, “No, no!” he presses buttons wildly, unsure what he’s even trying to achieve, “Did he get off the plane, did he get off the plane?”

He doesn’t even hear the door open.

“I got off the plane.”

Cas’s heart finally stops beating altogether and his phone falls to the floor.

He turns around so fast he feels the world swim around him; Dean the only clear focus in a room of blurred colours.

He’s standing in the doorway, his duffle dropped by his feet and green eyes shining brighter than his grace ever did.

Cas knows he’s crying. Can hear the tears in his own voice.

“You got off the plane,” he repeats, and when Dean opens his palms as if to say _I’m here if you want me,_ Cas lets out a laugh that could also be a sob and suddenly Dean’s in the room and they’re surging together like two clouds in a storm; a jolt like lightening ripping through Cas as Dean’s lips meet his.

And Cas can’t breathe _again_ but this time he doesn’t want to as his hands grip onto the soft strands of Dean’s hair and strong arms wrap around his waist until they’re flush together from chest to toe.

Dean’s lips are not that different from any other lips, softer perhaps and fuller than most, but the way they move against his sets him alight like no other lips ever had. He can taste the salt of his tears between their mouths and soon enough they’re both smiling too wide to continue and Dean’s forehead is resting against his as they laugh into each other’s mouths instead.

“I do love you,” Dean promises quietly, lifting a hand to swipe a thumb across Cas’s right cheekbone and Cas smiles so wide it hurts his cheeks.

“I love you too and I am not leaving you again, you understand?” Cas holds his gaze as he watches Dean process the words.

He watches the doubt cloud Dean’s eyes and he watches it tentatively disappear as Cas turns to kiss the palm on his face.

Dean smiles, bright and warm, “Me neither.”

And Cas has to kiss him again because it’s the only way to breathe and he’s pretty sure Sam is laughing loudly in the doorway but when Dean’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip he finds he doesn’t care.

 _Yes,_ he thinks as a warm hand slides under his shirt, _this is definitely better than flying_.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [my tumblr](http://noangelsinthegarrison.tumblr.com/)


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